


South Side of the Sun

by kz_jell



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Kageyama Tobio, Autistic Kageyama Tobio, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Pre and Post Timeskip, aromantic pansexual hinata shouyou, atsuhina is prominent and important but not endgame :(, platonic life partners kagehina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kz_jell/pseuds/kz_jell
Summary: Kageyama is not a friend. He’s a rival, a teammate, a partner, and later, a roommate, but no… not exactly a friend....//An aromantic’s exploration of what it means to be a friend, and what it means to love.//
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 17
Kudos: 156





	South Side of the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [volume 12 of the HQ light novel](https://twitter.com/todokugou/status/1292959635318726657) where Yachi says KageHina don’t give off the aura of “friends" , haru’s [autistic parameter chart for tobio](https://twitter.com/ousamayama/status/1295455502466527239), and my own experiences with love and relationships. 
> 
> Set in a universe where the Adlers and Jackals train in the same city.
> 
> Pre-timeskip : past tense : Shoyo age 17  
> Post-timeskip : present tense : Shoyo age 22
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_The boy hesitated. “I’m not good at that stuff. With people. I’m not like you.”_

_“Not like me?” Shoyo tilted his head._

_“Yeah, everyone talks to you and is close to you. But people don’t like me.” The boy frowned._

_“I like you, and the team likes you. I think people just need to warm up to you and then they’ll see how awesome you are!” Shoyo grinned._

_The boy shook his head. “Not for me. I can’t do it.” He turned his head down. “I exist and everyone stays away.”_

* * *

Kageyama is not a friend. Friends talk and do things together. ( _Things_ outside of volleyball, but then again, is there really anything else that can measure up to volleyball?) Within the two years Shoyo was abroad, he and Kageyama exchanged maybe a maximum of a dozen or so texts. One conversation every few months could hardly be considered “talking”. Their exchanges consisted of things like competitions,

> _[ You | 16:37 ]:_ new running vertical is 342 !!!!!
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 18:21 ]:_ Hah mine’s 344cm
> 
> _[ You | 18:45 ]:_ boooo that’s 981 wins and 987 losses for me then
> 
> _[ You | 18:45 ]:_ i’ll beat u next time >:]
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 00:32 ]:_ You’re on. 

very specific photos,

> _[ You | 22:15 ]:_ look who i found in rio!!!!!!!!
> 
> _[ You | 22:16 ]: [image attached]_
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 22:16 ]:_ How are his serves?
> 
> _[ You | 05:35 ]:_ still INSAAANE even on the beach
> 
> _[You | 05:35 ]:_ after falling on his ass a gajillion times tho HAHA
> 
> _[You | 05:36 ]:_ it has more WOOMPH than in high school
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 09:12 ]:_ I see
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 09:13 ]:_ I will win, beach.
> 
> _[ You | 12:54 ]:_ !! :0000
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 22:27 ]:_ Are those zeroes your amount of service aces?
> 
> _[ You | 22:56 ]:_ I’M GETTING BETTER!! U WILL SEE!
> 
> _[ You | 22:57 ]:_ also no it’s a surprised face with the zero as a mouth
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 10:42 ]:_ :0

> _[ Bakageyama | 04:09 ]: [image attached]_
> 
> _[ You | 07:31 ]:_ ???
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 08:16 ]:_ I found a perfectly round tangerine. It looks like you
> 
> _[ You | 08:23 ]:_ i kinda wanna spike it !!! :]
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 08:24 ]:_ Don’t be mean to fruit
> 
> _[ You | 08:24 ]:_ i will do whatever i like
> 
> _[ You | 08:57 ]:_ wait if u ate the tangerine does that mean u ate me
> 
> _[ Bakageyama | 10:13 ]:_ ...

and nothing else.

It isn't like how it was with Kenma, who Shoyo texts his random thoughts and snippets of his life to, or with Yamaguchi, who he swaps memes with on the regular (Yama-yama still keeps making fun of Shoyo’s “weak meme game” but goddammit how could he not love this picture of a dog dressed like a shark?), or with Yachi, who he calls every now and then to talk about their respective dreams and worries. 

Even after returning to the same city, Shoyo and Kageyama don’t do things together. Well, outside of practice, Shoyo doesn’t have much time to “do things” in the first place, but still. He meditates alone, he works out with Sakusa (who entrusts Shoyo with the duty of being a reliable spotter AND equipment cleaner, and Shoyo sure does enjoy the luxury of a home gym), and he parties with Bokuto. A part of Shoyo’s heart belongs in Rio, and when he misses the noise and the heat and the dancing, he seeks out Bokuto, who always seems to know a guy who knows a guy to get them into the best of the city's nightlife scene. 

And that’s where he is tonight, reveling among the swaying bodies and the pulsing bass amplifying the thrum of alcohol surging in his veins. Bokuto is somewhere on the dance floor, and Shoyo knows he can easily spot those white streaks if he wanted to find him, but really, he’s doing just fine. He’s pressed up between two people: a tall and freckled woman with biceps he wants to lick the sweat off of, and a stocky man in a deep v-neck shirt that reminds him of his old volleyball captain in a dangerously enticing way. 

“Can we buy you a drink?” The woman bends down to purr in his ear, softly licking the shell of it, and Shoyo shudders in anticipation of a good time tonight. He nods and heads to the bar, giddiness in his throat, and nearly has a heart attack when he sees his teammate that’s _not_ Bokuto perched on a stool. Shoyo feels a jolt of excitement as he spots a flash of fire between hooded eyelids and the drink at his teammate's lips.

“A-Atsumu-san.” He stutters out. 

“A friend of yours?” The woman beside him hums. 

“Something like that,” Shoyo wheezes, somewhat distracted by his setter in casual clothes, and not just any casual clothes, but a patterned white button down t-shirt tucked deliciously into a pair of tight, _tight_ black pants.

“My, my.” The woman chuckles. “You have some attractive friends.”

“Shoyo-kun.” Atsumu takes a drink from the bartender and hands it to Shoyo. 

“Hm?” Shoyo holds the glass with two hands and takes a small sip, before shaking away his nervousness. Why was he nervous? Was it because he’s never seen Atsumu like this before? Come on, he’s Hinata Shoyo, and if Brazil taught him anything, it’s how to navigate a situation like this to get what he wants. (Actually, Brazil taught him a lot of things way more important than that, but Shoyo waves the thought off with a tipsy hand.) He puts a hand on his waist and takes another sip, stretching his neck much more than necessary. He pulls away from the drink with a smack. “Like what you see?” He grins at Atsumu.

“Hm. Very.” Atsumu smirks back. “Ya look good on the dance floor.” 

“I bet I look better somewhere else.” Shoyo bites back playfully.

“Why don’t the both of you join us tonight?” The woman suggests, putting an arm around Shoyo’s shoulders, clenching slightly so that it hurts, as if she doesn’t realize her own strength. Or maybe she does, and knows that Shoyo likes it a little too much. 

He and Atsumu shuffle out behind the couple, and he feels a hand trailing down his back much lower than the ones he’s used to for a celebratory pat. He shoots Bokuto a quick text before probably the hottest night of his life. 

> _[ You | 00:18 ]:_ heading out, don’t wait up!! ;) 
> 
> _[ You | 00:18 ]:_ hope ur good tho :]
> 
> _[ Bokuto-sensei | 00:20 ]:_ !!! HAVE FUN MY DISCIPLE
> 
> _[ Bokuto-sensei | 00:21 ]:_ DONT DIE USE PROTECTION
> 
> _[ You | 00:28 ]:_ i wont!! i mean i will!!

> _[ You | 10:37 ]:_ can tsumu join us next time we go out
> 
> _[ Bokuto-sensei | 11:05 ]:_ YEAH!!! 
> 
> _[ Bokuto-sensei | 11:05 ]:_ the more the merrier :DDD

The next few times they go clubbing, Shoyo and Atsumu always have a third (or a fourth) person between them, and they never fuck alone. Shoyo doesn’t really know the difference between fucking one person versus several, but Atsumu seems to want other people as a boundary, maybe because they’re teammates, and Shoyo doesn’t mind. 

One night, he’s dancing with Bokuto and Atsumu, waving his hands wildly in the air and laughing as Bokuto does an impression of a moonwalking peacock, or something. It apparently must be a sort of mating call, because a girl taps him on the shoulder and shyly asks if he wants to dance. Bokuto beams at her and waves at his teammates, leading the girl further into the crowd. 

“Guess it’s just us, now.” Shoyo smiles.

“Whatever can we do?” Atsumu asks innocently, trailing a hand down Shoyo’s arm. When he gets to Shoyo’s wrist, he tugs firmly, sending Shoyo flying into his chest. 

“What the heck, Tsumu!” Shoyo complains, but Atsumu just cackles loudly. He suddenly goes quiet, and his hands start wandering down Shoyo’s back as they continue to sway to the beat. 

Shoyo embraces the warmth and reciprocates by running his hands up Atsumu’s chest and into his hair. He tugs Atsumu towards his neck, and Atsumu easily understands, licking and nibbling as his hands move down to grab Shoyo’s ass. Shoyo hums contently, eyes closed, before asking, “Do we wanna find a third?” 

Atsumu stills for a second, not leaving Shoyo’s neck. “I was thinkin’ it could just be us tonight. If yer cool with it, of course.” He says lowly. 

Shoyo opens his eyes a glances down at the puff of blond hair, and shrugs. “Let’s do it.” 

Atsumu takes the agreement and runs with it, biting and grasping more vigorously than before. Shoyo moans softly as he feels the familiar buildup of pleasure and tugs Atsumu’s hair in desire. Atsumu comes up, mouth glossy, eyes hooded and hazy, and licks his lips. Shoyo traces the movement with his eyes before tugging him towards the exit. 

They continue at Atsumu’s apartment, because Shoyo lives in a shitty apartment building and does not want that nice old lady in the apartment underneath to hear him slam Atsumu into the mattress. (Which he does, over and over again, into Atsumu’s mattress, so hard that the springs creak and the headboard shakes but Shoyo is too fired up to care about clichés.)

He cleans them up and Atsumu lets him use the shower first, which Shoyo is thankful for, since his supposedly endless stamina ended with one Miya Atsumu being a freak in bed. Shoyo lets the warm water run through his hair and down his body for a moment before snapping awake, remembering that this isn’t his own apartment and that won’t be his own water bill. He quickly scrubs Atsumu’s two-in-one shampoo in his hair and slathers some supposedly charcoal-scented bodywash on his skin, before hopping out and drying off. He debates tying a towel around his waist but then decides that Atsumu’s already seen all of him, so there isn't a point to any post-sex modesty.

“Your turn.” He says as he steps out. 

Atsumu sits up from his position on the bed, and does a double take as he turns to Shoyo. “Yeah…” He mutters, scrambling to get up and gather some clean clothes before striding past Shoyo and closing the door with more force than necessary. 

Maybe Atsumu’s one of those people that's grouchy after sex. Shoyo can’t relate, and he surfs around on his phone in hopes that it will keep him awake long enough for Atsumu to come out of the shower so he can say goodbye. 

He wakes up to the sound of a door slamming open, and snaps his eyes open as his phone slides off his face. “I’m here!” He yelps in confusion, turning to the origin of the sound. Right, he’s at Atsumu’s apartment. How long was he in the shower? When had Shoyo fallen asleep?

Atsumu has his legs in a shoulder-width stance and both hands on his hips. He’s wearing boxers, an oversized tee, and nothing else. He looks… really cute, Shoyo thinks faintly. 

“Shoyo!”

He snaps his gaze to Atsumu’s face, which had a strange expression of conviction. 

“Shoyo, date me.” 

* * *

See, the thing is, Shoyo has never cared for romance. He likes his friends, and he likes his sexual encounters, and he likes his sexual encounters with friends, but to hold one person closer than the rest? It’s a foreign concept. 

Even back in high school, when everyone thought he and Kageyama were dating, Shoyo didn’t get why. He and Kageyama weren’t even _friends_. In fact, Shoyo was pretty sure that if not for volleyball, they wouldn’t even talk to each other. So the fact that his senpais were implying that they were _dating_ sounded outright implausible. 

“You ask him to set for you all the time!” Tanaka cried.

“He’s a good setter!” Shoyo protested. 

“Okay, but 24/7? Sounds like he’s on your mind a lot.” Nishinoya waggled his eyebrows.

“Um… _volleyball_ is on my mind a lot.” Shoyo grumbled. 

“Err, that’s fair…” Nishinoya frowned in understanding. “Well, you guys are always close to each other! And I’m pretty sure you can read each other’s minds!” 

Tanaka nodded his head rapidly. “Yeah! Like that time you noticed he was upset at his serves during practice and instantly handed him a milk carton.” 

“Or when you guys figured out how to do the New and ImprovedTM freak quick without even talking?” Nishinoya gestured wildly. 

“I guess? I think we’d have to understand each other well after being partners for a year.” Shoyo scratched his head. “And that’s all we are! Partners! So no more talk about us in _love_ , or _dating_.” He said scathingly. 

But to his dismay, the topic of love seemed to come up again and again. 

During lunch, Shoyo alternated between sitting with his class friends and with the other second-year volleyball members to eat. With three 180cm tall boys donning different colored hair, he really had no difficulty at all spotting his teammates in the cafeteria, even if the realization poked at the beast inside his heart named ‘a height complex’.

Disgruntled by the earlier encounter with his senpais, he plopped down in the empty seat next to Kageyama with a sigh, glancing at how the boy fiddled with his chopsticks while Yamaguchi and Tsukishima stopped whatever conversation they were having.

“Mighty nice of you to join us today, Mr. Popular.” Tsukishima snided. “Got bored of your other friends?”

“It’s Wednesday.” Kageyama said, looking up from his cutlery.

“…my dudes.” Yamaguchi finished. “Kageyama, I didn’t know you could meme! Well, I wouldn’t really count that as ‘memeing’ but I guess I can give you a 2/10 for effort––”

“What? I’m just saying that it’s Wednesday, which is why Hinata is sitting with us.” Kageyama frowned. “He sits with us on Mondays and Wednesdays, with Izuni-san and the others on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and he calls Kenma on Fridays.” 

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima looked at him curiously. “Huh.” Yamaguchi remarked, tone both questioning and accepting, as if he’s already found an answer.

“It’s been months!” Kageyama exclaimed, as if _they_ were the weird ones.

“I guess I don’t tend to notice things like times and dates,” Tsukishima smirked. “Oh, Yamaguchi, speaking of _dates_ —”

“Oh my god, not this again.” Yamaguchi exploded, and Shoyo internally agreed. “Yachi doesn’t like me like that; why would I ask her out if I know I’ll get rejected?”

Shoyo's ears perked at hearing his friend’s name. “You like Yachi?” He grinned. Personal thoughts aside, he wanted his friends to be happy, and if they were happy with romantic stuff like that, he would support them as much as he could. 

“This is old news, Pumpkin-head,” Tsukishima leaned over to flick him on the forehead. “Guess you’re too busy with your _other_ friends to notice.” He teased.

“First, ow, second, maybe you don’t have other friends because your personality scares them off, and third, I don’t see what’s the big deal about relationships and stuff.” Shoyo frowned while staring into his curry. He thought he heard a faint _"me too"_ coming from his right, but he couldn't really tell. He glanced over at Kageyama still poking at his food, and scooped some of his curry onto Kageyama’s plate. “Oi, Bakageyama, you haven’t been eating. Don’t want you to die on me during practice.” 

“I won’t die.” Kageyama muttered, starting to eat his food rather than just play with it. “Thank you.” He says after a moment of consideration.

Yamaguchi looked between the two of them. “You sure you’ve never thought about relationships?” He asked curiously.

Shoyo hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I do want Kiyoko-senpai to step on me and I want to climb the Great King like a tree but I’ve never wanted to _date_ them.” His teammates started to sputter and choke, and Shoyo watched as bits of rice and food particles sprayed over the table. “What the hell, guys? Gross!” 

“S-Step on you??” Yamaguchi asked with a blush.

“Oikawa??” Kageyama choked out between coughs. Shoyo opened his juice box and handed it to him, which his partner accepted gratefully. 

“Ah, and thus, the setter rivalry continues, in new ways we didn’t think possible.” Tsukishima snorted as he wiped at his eyes. “Truly a story for the books.” 

“The plot twist we didn’t know we needed, but the one we deserved.” Yamaguchi nodded solemnly. 

“H-hey, what’s so weird about that? They’re both really attractive…” Shoyo started to feel embarrassed at his friends’ reactions.

“No, we don’t mean it in a bad way,” Yamaguchi laughed. “It was just surprising, since… y’know.” 

“Y’know…?” Shoyo prompted.

“We thought you and that guy over there—” He nodded across the table at Kageyama, who was feeling well enough to stuff his face with curry at an inhuman speed. “—were a thing.” 

Shoyo exhaled in frustration. “First Tanaka-senpai and Noya-senpai, and now you two? We’re just teammates, right Bakageyama?” The boy in question looked up and nodded rapidly, cheeks stuffed with food. He reminded Shoyo of the blowfish bobblehead on Natsu’s desk. Shoyo frowned. “Why does everything have to be about love?” 

“I heard it’s what makes the world round.” Kageyama mused. Shoyo wasn’t sure how love contributed to the earth’s mass and gravitational force, but he nodded anyways. 

“…Idiots.” Tsukishima snickered. 

“Hey!” Shoyo objected. “Grr… but anyways…” He turned to Yamaguchi, rubbing the back of his neck. “How do you know that you like Yachi? Like, what does it feel like to like someone?” 

“Ah…” Yamaguchi flushed pink, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “I guess it’s like that clichéd phrase, ‘butterflies in your stomach’? You’re nervous around them but you always want to be around them. You think about them a lot and hope that they think about you too, and you want to hold their hand and k-kiss them…” Now, he was a brilliant shade of vermillion, and Shoyo glanced at Yamaguchi's face and hair before quietly muttering _"Christmas"_.

Yamaguchi hid his face in his hands. “God, this is embarrassing. Hinata, why’d you have to make this embarrassing??” 

“Okay.” Tsukishima pinched his brow and inhaled deeply. “Um. I think that… when you like someone, it doesn’t have to be nervousness. It can be a deep sense of calm, like that’s where you’re meant to be.” 

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi recovered from his embarrassment instantly, swerving to look at his best friend in astonishment. “Are you in love with someone?”

Tsukishima nudged his glasses into place. “In a universe of infinite possibilities, there might be a hypothetical situation where that happens, yes.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?!” Yamaguchi exclaimed. 

Tsukishima took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. “I don’t have to tell you everything.” He scowled, looking down. 

“No! This is important stuff! I’m revoking your best friend card.” Yamaguchi punched his best friend in the shoulder. He reached over to Tsukishima’s lap, while the other sputtered a _"what the fuck?"_ , and mimed pulling a card from his ex-best friend’s pocket and putting it in his own. “See you at practice, Sho-kun, Yama-kun, and _Tsukishima-san_.” He enunciated, stomping off in a half-mocking anger.

“Yama-kun?” Kageyama echoed. 

“He’s so dramatic!” Shoyo giggled at their antics. 

Tsukishima snorted. “Yeah, well.” He looked in the direction where Yamaguchi exited, grinning softly to himself, and Shoyo started to understand that _he's_ the one who didn't understand.

* * *

“Atsumu-san, sorry, but… I don’t date.” Shoyo says with a nervous smile, rubbing his thumbs against each other. He hates rejecting people, he hates making them feel bad after they gained the courage to ask something so openly, and he especially hates that he has to turn down his teammate, his setter. 

“Oh!” Atsumu grins, without faltering, and Shoyo is relieved to see that he’s okay. “Thought I’d give it shot but I getcha. Do ya still wanna do this—” he gestures between them, “—fuck buddies thing?” 

“Only if you’re okay with it!” Shoyo smiles back.

Atsumu walks over to Shoyo and crawls into his lap, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “Sure am.” He says with a shit-eating smirk, and Shoyo can’t help but give one back. 

They continue as normal, practicing together, getting drinks together, hooking up together, alone and with others, and Shoyo is glad that everything is fine. 

He and Atsumu are eating dinner together after practice one night, and Atsumu is chatting about some shenanigans from his high school team. Shoyo feels like he and Atsumu have been spending more time together recently, even aside from the club, and he thinks about how this isn’t the first time his teammates have canceled on their group dinner. He looks at his seared salmon dish, looks at his glass of wine, and thinks about how he and Atsumu were probably going back to his apartment after this to have sex. Wait, is this a date?

“So then Aran turns around with the most deadpan expression and tells ‘Samu that he’s gonna “cut a bitch” and then ‘Samu—”

“WAIT, IS THIS A DATE?” Shoyo yells out, and his sudden loudness causes Atsumu to drop his utensils on the floor. Shoyo hears the clanging of metal and nothing else, feeling the heavy gazes of other patrons around them.

“Um.” Atsumu clears his throat. “If ya want it to be.” He says sheepishly.

Shoyo sighs. “Atsumu, I already told yo—”

“I know, I know what ya said, but Shoyo!” Atsumu pleads. “We’re already hangin' out and sleepin' together, and it’s been so fun! What’s the difference between that and dating?” 

Shoyo thinks about it and realizes that he doesn’t have an answer. And maybe, the concept that befuddled him for so long is really that simple: a relationship is a friend you fuck. Maybe, along the way, Atsumu will be “the right person” his mom says he just “needs to find”. So, he reluctantly agrees to be Atsumu’s boyfriend.

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

* * *

Kageyama is not a friend, so Shoyo is utterly confused when he asks him to be his roommate. First, he’s utterly confused because Kageyama actually _called_ him, since they already saw each other recently at the Karasuno reunion after their V-league match a couple weeks ago, so he couldn’t have called to catch up or anything. And second, he’s utterly confused when Kageyama starts the call with “do you play music out loud at home?” and Shoyo has to ask several clarifying questions until he gets the gist of it. 

“My sister says I need to socialize with people that are not coworkers.” Kageyama grunts into the phone. Shoyo supposes that in a professional sport, teammates are coworkers, but he thinks it’s still a strange way to refer to them.

“And that means living with someone?” Shoyo asks.

“Why would I go out and socialize with people when I can do it at home?” Kageyama argues, and Shoyo admits that it’s a fair point. 

“Why me?” Shoyo asks, still befuddled.

“You’re the second person I thought of. Because you said you cook and you smell okay. The first person was Yamaguchi, but when I asked him, he said he’s already happily living with his two best friends––”

“You know he’s pretty much married to Yachi and Tsukki, right—”

“—oh really? That makes a lot of sense. The third person I thought of was Ushijima, but then I remembered that he’s a coworker, and Miwa said that’s not allowed, and the fourth person I thought of was Kunimi, but I can’t tell if they make fun of me because they still hate me, or if we’re friends. I wouldn’t want to live with someone who hates me. That’s everyone I could think of.”

“Hm, you should probably ask Kunimi if they hate you.” Shoyo muses.

“Okay. So do you want to be roommates?” Kageyama asks assuredly, like it’s an easy choice, and Shoyo thinks about his shitty apartment with the thin walls and broken floorboards and weak water pressure.

“Yeah, sure."

They find a place not too far from Kageyama's gym, not too far from a train station that takes Shoyo to his, near a running route that won’t have them being hit by cars and bicycles at every turn. It has hardwood floors, so Kageyama can put out his fluffy rug when he needs it, and it has a balcony, so Shoyo can do his yoga and meditation in the cool morning air. 

Shoyo is lugging his last boxes down the hall, running as fast as he could without compromising the balance of his belongings. He rushes in the doorway, panting and sweating, and Tobio follows soon after. 

Shoyo grins at him. “I win. That’s 1098 wins and 1100 losses for me! You gotta do better; you haven’t won since—”

“I bet I can unpack faster than you.” Tobio interrupts, swerving around to powerwalk into his room, and Shoyo takes a second to catch up.

“H-hey! No fair, you got a head start!” Shoyo protests, and gets a surge of adrenaline that always seems to accompany him when Tobio is around. 

He doesn’t think to check his phone until after he’s done unpacking (Tobio indeed won), and he panics at the sight of five missed calls and a dozen unread texts. 

> _[ Tsumumu | 09:41 ]: [image attached]_
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 09:41 ]:_ look i saw a dog earlier
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 09:42 ]:_ her name is megadeath and shes the most precious thng ever
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 09:42 ]:_ (besides u, sunshine)

> _[ Tsumumu | 10:35 ]:_ wanna get lunch ltr?

> _[ Tsumumu | 14:27 ]:_ or not

> _[ Tsumumu | 15:28 ]:_ wya?? are u dead
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 15:28 ]:_ if ur dead i s2g ill stomp on ur grave

> _[ Tsumumu | 17:46 ]:_ i went to ur apt and no 1s there
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 17:46 ]:_ did u get abducted

> _[ Tsumumu | 19:31 ]:_ okay im getting worried
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 19:32 ]:_ WHERE ARE YOU

> _[ Tsumumu | 21:47 ]:_ :(

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shoyo presses the call button with panic and regret. “Tsumu, I’m so sorry—”

“BABE!” Atsumu yells over the line. “I’m glad yer okay but WHAT THE HELL, MAN?? WHERE DID YA GO??”

“I’m so, so sorry Tsumu, I was moving all day, and I forgot to check my phone, I’m so sorry.” Shoyo winces.

“Oh mah lord, baaabe. Ya hafta _tell_ me these things, or else I dunno where ya are, okay?” 

“I know, I know. It’s entirely my fault for not letting you know. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Atsumu sighs deeply. “Y’were movin'? Like yer helpin’ a friend move or somethin'?”

“No? I moved apartments.” 

“…What?” 

“Yeah, Tobio asked me to move in with him.”

“Move in with him?”

“No no, like we found a new place together, not that I moved into his old place.” Shoyo feels a deep sense of anxiety taking root in his stomach. "…I thought I told you?” 

“…No, ya didn’t.” Atsumu says sharply. 

“Oh."

“Since when did he become ‘Tobio’, huh, Shoyo?” 

“I—what? Babe, it’s not like that, we’re just—”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’ unless ya mean it.” Atsumu spits out, before he ends the call with a click. 

* * *

It’s true that he and Tobio are not and were never a thing, but it’s also true that Tobio was his first kiss.

After Nishinoya, and Tanaka, and Yamaguchi, and apparently everyone and their mother said he and Kageyama were dating, Shoyo gave it some thought.

Sure, Kageyama was… attractive, objectively speaking, but it wasn’t like Shoyo was attracted to him. Kageyama wasn’t even a friend, or anything. Friends joked around and hung out with each other outside of school. He and Kageyama didn't “joke", they insulted and competed, and they didn't "hang out", they played volleyball. And that was it.

When he thought of Kageyama, he thought of volleyball, and when he thought of volleyball, he thought of Kageyama. Shoyo couldn’t image a life where he and Kageyama weren’t competing to be their best selves, to excel and push each other forward with matched hungers and drives for the sport. Even if he did end up going to the other side of the world, Shoyo knew in his heart that he would always feel Kageyama’s existence urging him forward, like a lighthouse guiding him through the journey of a thousand miles that would end up with the two of them at the same destination. 

If Kageyama and volleyball went hand in hand, would dating him be like dating a volleyball? Shoyo imagined holding hands with a volleyball with Kageyama’s face on it, going on walks, getting ice cream, and he bursted out laughing. 

“Dumbass, focus!” Kageyama barked at him, and Shoyo stifled his giggles. 

The two of them were the last ones in the gym, with Kageyama practicing his serves and Shoyo attempting to receive them. Key word: attempting. 

“Oi, don’t go so hard. I need to actually practice.” Shoyo complained.

“Should I go easy on you?” Kageyama taunted.

“What? No way!” Shoyo spat. “I’m asking you to uh, mimic a serve that is less WABAM! and more WOOSH!” 

“Uhuh.” Kageyama said flatly, and spun the ball in his hands before executing his best serve yet.

Shoyo cursed as the ball zooms right past him. “One more!” 

Many tries later, Shoyo actually got to bump the volleyball back in a not-so-terrible fashion. 

“That’s not so terrible.” Kageyama mused, tucking a ball under his arm.

“Hey! I’m leagues better than I was before.” Shoyo pouted.

“Just to show how horrible you were back then.” Kageyama grinned. 

Shoyo failed to come up with a reply, instead huffing while walking around the net to the other side. Wordlessly, Kageyama set the ball just how Shoyo liked it, and he felt the joy of slamming it solidly onto the court—the sound reverberating around the gym and flowing satisfyingly into his ears.

“One more.” Shoyo said.

“Ten more.” Kageyama replied. 

“A hundred more.” Shoyo challenged.

“Of course.” Kageyama nodded with determination. 

Afterwards, they were both laying on the gym floor, soaking up the coldness of the wood through their drenched shirts. They lay like that for a minute, maybe an hour; all Shoyo knew was that he was completely content.

“Hey, Kageyama.” He said, unsure if the boy was asleep or not.

“Yeah?” Kageyama responded. Guess he was awake. 

“What do you think about everyone saying that we’re dating?” He asked, a little nervous, hoping that the other wouldn’t make fun of him. 

“I don’t really care.” 

“Don’t care about them talking, or about us dating?”

“Um… both. I don’t really care about relationship stuff.” Kageyama replied. 

“So you never think about kissing, or getting married?” Shoyo asked.

“No, I’m used to being alone. Everyone that comes eventually leaves, so there is no point.” Kageyama said unwaveringly, without any sadness.

Shoyo was silent at that, thinking about his own family and friends that have stayed constant throughout the years. “I don’t know if this helps, but just know that I’ll be there. Even if I’m across the world, I’ll still be competing to be better than you. Even when we’re a hundred years old, I’ll still be aiming to beat you.” He turned to lay on his side, looking at Kageyama breathing steadily with a hand on his stomach. 

Kageyama frowned. “A hundred years is a long time.” 

“Yeah, but I know that I will always want volleyball. So when you want volleyball, too, I’ll be right there beside you."

“I guess that could be true.” Kageyama looked back at him, and Shoyo could see the determination behind his dark blue eyes. “You’re too annoying to get rid of.” 

“O-oi!” Shoyo sputtered in response. “I was being so nice!”

Kageyama chuckled with a faint blush across his cheeks, and quieted down for a few moments. “...Sometimes I want to know what everyone is talking about.”

“Huh?”

“With crushes, and dating, and kissing… I don’t understand, but perhaps if it happens then I’ll finally _get_ it.” He said ruefully. Maybe it was the tiring and satisfying practice session, or maybe it was the nighttime, but Kageyama was being so open and earnest that Shoyo decided to push it further.

“Kageyama… do you want to kiss?” Shoyo mumbled. 

“What?” Kageyama’s eyebrows pinched together. 

“Argh. Like, do you want to kiss me? To try it?” Shoyo glanced away in embarrassment.

Kageyama was silent, frowning. “…Okay.” 

“What? Okay?!” Shoyo gasped.

“You were the one who asked, idiot!” Kageyama grumbled. 

“Right! Sure, fine, let’s do this…” Shoyo said rapidly. 

He stared at Kageyama, who was still laying on his back, a faint pink sprinkled across his cheeks, eyebrows still furrowed and mouth pinched tightly. Shoyo crawled next to him, putting a hand on the floor beside Kageyama's head and the other cupping his cheek. Kageyama flinched at the contact, and Shoyo pulled his hand away. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

“Yes. Put your hand back.” Kageyama said tightly. 

Shoyo complied, and chuckled at Kageyama’s constipated expression. “Dumbass, you need to relax.” 

Kageyama huffed out in frustration, then eased his face into a calmer one. “Better?”

Shoyo slowly leaned down. “Yes,” he whispered, centimeters from Kageyama’s face. He closed his eyes and leaned further, gently pressing his lips to Kageyama’s. 

Shoyo didn’t feel fireworks or butterflies, just chapped lips and the faint taste of salt. He deepened the kiss and the other boy obliged, slightly opening his mouth for Shoyo to run his lips across. It started to feel… kind of _good_ , and Shoyo felt wisps of fire in the deep of his belly. He poked the tip of his tongue out and gently licked Kageyama’s upper lip, and—wait a second, this was _Kageyama_ , this was all _wrong_ —suddenly whatever flame Shoyo felt in his stomach turned into bile, and he wanted to retch. He snapped his eyes open and pulled away quickly, looking in horror at Kageyama’s yet-again constipated expression. 

Then, Kageyama burst out laughing, harder than Shoyo had ever seen him laugh. “Y-Your face..!!” He choked out between chuckles, wiping at his eyes. 

“Oh god. Let’s never do that again.” Shoyo heaved out, overwhelmed. 

“Good, I wasn’t sure if you liked it or you hated it. From now on, the only thing I want touching my lips is food.” Kageyama said, still amused. 

“What about water? Or milk? Or the air? Or a volleyball when it smacks you in the face?” Shoyo asked cheekily.

“Okay, fine. Correction: no humans can touch my lips ever again.” Kageyama scowled. “Plus, the only way I’ll get hit in the face with a volleyball is if I’m asleep.”

Shoyo hummed thoughtfully until Kageyama slapped him on the back of his head. 

“Don’t get any ideas, dumbass!"

* * *

“I heard shouting.” Tobio says to Shoyo after Atsumu hung up on him. Shoyo looks up to see his roommate slowly uncovering his ears. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Shoyo responds automatically. Tobio nods and turns to his phone. “Okay, I’m not fine. I’m a shitty boyfriend and Atsumu is so mad at me.” 

“Oh. I see.” Tobio looks up and taps his fingers on his lap. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Yeah, it’s just,” Shoyo huffs out in frustration. “Atsumu is really great, and we have a lot of fun together, and the sex is fantastic—” Shoyo snorts at Tobio’s pained expression. “—sorry, my bad.” He sighs deeply. “I really enjoy having him as a teammate, and as a friend, but it’s been hard doing, like, boyfriendly stuff with him the past couple months.” 

“What’s the difference between friend stuff and boyfriend stuff? Besides the sleeping together.” Tobio purses his lips and presses his fingers together.

Shoyo tugs at the bottom of his t-shirt. “See? That’s what I can’t figure out. I don’t know what it is, but it’s just… different. Like Atsumu sees me as his one and only, but I don’t see him as _my_ one and only.” 

“Hm. It sounds like you could do two things: one, break up so that he no longer sees you that way, or two, try to make him your one and only.” Tobio muses. 

“Damn, since when did you get so smart?” Shoyo chuckles.

“Since always. I don’t like complicated things.” Tobio snorts. 

“Yeah.” Shoyo bites his lip. “I think I’ll try to be a better boyfriend. If I keep doing it, maybe I'll convince my brain to feel that way, too.” 

Tobio smiles and raises a fist, as if to wish him luck, and as Shoyo bumps his fist back, he prays for all the luck in the world.

He consults several friends for help, asking questions along the lines of “how do you ‘romance’ someone?”, and “how do you show affection in a relationship?”, but always keeping it general and vague, and most importantly, anonymous. 

“Tell them what you like about them! Do things to make their life a bit easier!” Tanaka shouts, and Shoyo can hear him beaming through the phone. 

“You gotta be normal.” Bokuto says ominously. (“Normal?” Shoyo echoes.) “Yeah, you can’t be swinging in between extremes.” (Shoyo ends the call more confused than he was before.)

“People usually do to you what they want you to do to them.” Yachi offers, after snatching the phone from Yamaguchi, who told Shoyo to “send memes and/or nudes". (Shoyo makes a puzzled noise at her advice.) “I mean, observe how they show affection and then reciprocate it!” She clarifies. “Is this about Atsumu-san?” (Shoyo yelps out a quick “nope!” and hangs up before she can respond.) 

“Ask them what they like. And then do it.” Kenma says flatly. (“Kenma, you have no tact.” Shoyo shakes his head.) 

His head starts to hurt from all the thinking, but he has a general plan. Starting tomorrow, he’s going to focus all his non-volleyball energy on Atsumu. He’s going to take him out on a date, give him flowers, listen to him, and see how he treats Shoyo. 

During practice, Atsumu doesn’t talk to him unless it’s to make calls. He doesn’t even look at Shoyo, which actually hurts, and a part of Shoyo is relieved to feel that he has some form of a heart. Maybe his heart is growing. 

They’re in the locker room, and Shoyo takes a shower at the speed of light so that he can wait for Atsumu to finish his. 

As soon as Atsumu steps out, Shoyo asks, “Can we talk?” 

Atsumu jumps up and then clutches his chest. “Jesus, Shoyo.” He sighs and looks away. “At least lemme put on some clothes first.” 

“Okay.” Shoyo nods and waits as Atsumu changes like a sloth, and glances around as the other Jackals hurriedly shuffle out of the locker room. 

Atsumu sits down on the bench and puts his hands on his hips. “Okay, talk.” 

Shoyo swallows nervously, and whatever speech he practiced before gets jumbled around in his head. “So, I’m really sorry, I’ve been a crappy boyfriend. I should have told you about me moving, and I should tell you other important stuff, too.” He scratches the back of his head. “I should show you that I care about you, because I do, and… um… I will try my best to do that.” 

“Is there anythin’ goin' on between ya and Kageyama?” Atsumu stares at him. 

“No! God, no. We’re just roommates!” Shoyo shakes his head rapidly.

“So ya don’t have feelings for him or nothin’?” Atsumu asks, frowning. Shoyo doesn’t even know if he has “feelings” for _anyone_ (not yet, his brain supplies optimistically), but he can’t tell his boyfriend that. 

“Nope, I promise.” Shoyo clasps his hands earnestly. “Oh! I got you something…” He says, reaching over to his locker to take out a teddy bear and bouquet of roses that were slightly wilted from staying next to his smelly shoes for hours. He reaches out to hand them to Atsumu. “Will you still go out with me?” 

Atsumu’s eyes get slightly red and puffy, welling with tears, and Shoyo panics for a second. Is he _crying_? 

“I’m allergic to flowers and I don’t like bears.” Atsumu deadpans. 

“Oh.” Shoyo says, tossing the bouquet behind him without missing a beat, where it soars in a perfect setter’s arc before thunking into a trashcan. He shoves the bear back in his locker, keeping his gaze on Atsumu the whole time. 

Atsumu’s poker face breaks into a silly grin. “It’s a sweet thought, I gotta say.” 

Shoyo’s lips curve into a small smile. “Does this mean you still wanna date?” 

“Yeah, if ya keep yer word.” Atsumu replies, standing up and walking towards the exit of the locker room. He turns his head to the side. “Also, I prefer geckos.” He says, poking his tongue out between his teeth.

Shoyo grins, jogging to catch up with him, and he’s happy to have his teammate back. 

* * *

> _[ You | 15:02 ]:_ do u wanna go out for dinner tmr?
> 
> _[ Tsumumu | 15:19 ]:_ sure :)

Shoyo glances at the display name he set for Atsumu. People nickname their significant others cute things, right? He clicks Atsumu’s name and presses backspace. He types and retypes several names, seeing how he feels about each one. “Boyfriend <3” and “Tsumumu <3” feel weird, “likes geckos” and “my setter” feel impersonal, so Shoyo settles for something in between.

> _[ You | 15:27 ]:_ what do u wanna eat?
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:28 ]:_ up 2 u

Shoyo thinks about what he wants to eat, but then realizes that wait, maybe this is a test? Maybe Atsumu wants to see if Shoyo knows what he likes to eat. He likes… natto, right? Or maybe takoyaki? He thinks about what’s he’s seen Atsumu eat so far, and an idea pops into his head.

> _[ You | 15:29 ]:_ u like onigiri right?
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:30 ]:_ i swear if u bring me to my brother’s shop for our d8 im gonna throw hands
> 
> _[ You | 15:30 ]:_ :0
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:31 ]:_ but fr, i actually dont have a pref
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:31 ]:_ its a rare moment for me so go w/ ur hearts desire

Shoyo sees an opportunity and seizes it.

> _[ You | 15:32 ]:_ what if my heart desires u
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:47 ]:_ …
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 15:47 ]:_ gross <3

Shoyo grins, his plan is going smoothly so far. 

Over the next couple weeks, he observes Atsumu the Boyfriend rather than Atsumu the Setter. First, Shoyo notices that Atsumu is physically close to him. A lot. Atsumu stands close to him when they’re walking to the locker room, he holds his hand when they’re walking on a date, and everywhere he goes, Shoyo can feel Atsumu’s gaze on him. Atsumu always seems to have a hand on Shoyo’s shoulder or back, and half of Shoyo enjoys it while the other half wants to shrug him off. (He desperately tries to ignore the latter.) 

Atsumu insults Shoyo a lot, coming up with whacky nicknames like “poophead peabrain”, “shrimpy mcskimpy”, or “shorty the farty” (Shoyo tells him that it doesn’t even rhyme, and Atsumu tells him that he doesn’t even care), but Shoyo can always hear the fondness behind his words. In the same vein, Atsumu doles out compliments easily, always telling Shoyo that he looks good and he plays well, and while Shoyo likes to verbally support his teammates, he’s never been on the receiving end of such praise before. 

Atsumu gives him small gifts and trinkets, usually food related, and Shoyo cherishes the extra onigiri that Atsumu claims to have too much of, or the little packs of matcha koalas he finds in his locker from time to time. He cherishes, and he guilts, and he resolves to do better. 

> _[ You | 05:31 ]:_ good morning!! :]
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 07:02 ]:_ !
> 
> _[ my bf Tsumumu | 07:02 ]:_ gm sunshine

“You’re so beautiful.” Shoyo sighs out in between Atsumu’s collarbones, and watches as he flushes pink.

“Y-Ya think I’m beautiful?” Atsumu stammers out, covering a face with one hand. 

Shoyo smiles and gently pulls that hand away, cupping Atsumu’s cheeks. “Yes, gorgeous.” He says, pressing a kiss to Atsumu’s forehead. Atsumu physically melts and starts to blabber incoherently. (Shoyo has a pretty good night after that.)

He asks Sakusa who asks his cousin who asks his teammate who asks Osamu what Atsumu’s favorite food is. It’s fatty tuna, and Shoyo surprises him by taking him out to a nice place downtown that specializes in the dish. Atsumu bites into the dish and waves his arms in pleasure, then flashes Shoyo a dopey smile, a huge contrast to his usual side smirks. He lies a hand on Shoyo’s, bringing it to his lips, and gently kisses each of his knuckles. Shoyo licks the smear of oil off, and watches in amusement as Atsumu’s jaw drops slightly open.

One weekend, a few months into their relationship, he takes Atsumu out to the movies. It’s a romantic comedy, and Atsumu teases him when he cries at the end. Shoyo chucks popcorn at him in retaliation, extra salty. He and Atsumu walk around the neighborhood afterwards, hand in hand, talking and laughing while watching the sun set in a blaze of orange and purple. Shoyo fishes out a keychain from his pocket and gives it to Atsumu. It has two charms: one is a sun and the other is a gecko. Atsumu clutches it in one hand and pulls Shoyo into a kiss with the other. Atsumu says, “I love you”. Shoyo says it back. It’s a perfect scene. 

That night, Shoyo plods into his apartment, and checks Tobio’s closed door. The arrow is pointing to “do not disturb at all”, so Shoyo brews his tea as quietly as possible, and slips into his room. 

He falls face-first into the mattress, not bothering to brush his teeth, and knocks out for 12 hours. 

He dreams of a fractured green and gray sky. His eyes are heavy and his vision is blurred, and he panics through the haze. The only thing he hears is a faint, echoing tune, familiar and foreign. He tries to get closer to the voice and can make out the words. 

_“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_  
_You make me happy, when skies are gray_  
_You’ll never know, dear, how much I—”_

The voice hitches. 

_“—how much I love you_  
_Please don’t take my sunshine away."_

* * *

Rinse, and repeat.

* * *

Shoyo sees Tobio as an unstoppable force. Even though Shoyo puts in his all to improve, Tobio is always a few steps higher, a few times stronger. 

In his earlier years, Shoyo used to play volleyball instinctively, but as he learned actual skills and strategies of the sport, he began to realize how immaculately _precise_ Kageyama’s playing was. Each set had pinpoint accuracy, each serve was efficient and effective. Kageyama had to ability to recognize someone’s full potential, and through the course of high school, slowly learned how to draw out and utilize each teammate’s strengths. 

One time during practice, Shoyo spiked the ball over and over, but something was just wrong. Instead of the satisfying sting in his palm, he felt like the ball was just right out of reach. He felt frustrated, detached; vines creeping up his limbs and planting seeds of doubt in his brain. _“What if I can’t go any higher? What if I’ll never see the top again? What if I’m doomed to fall?”_

He gritted his teeth and yelled to Kageyama. “One more!” 

Kageyama pursed his lips and stared at Shoyo. “No.”

“What?!” Shoyo shouted. He felt his fear turn into anger and hissed. “Let me do this! I can do this!” 

Kageyama shook his head. “I said no.”

Shoyo grabbed Kageyama by the collar and pulled him to his face. “Kageyama, I swear to god, let me fuckin’ spike.” He growled. 

Kageyama pushed him away. “No. You can’t do it today. I’m not setting to you.” 

At his words, Shoyo felt the vines crawl up his heart and tighten their grasp. It was like he was back in first year, begging Kageyama to set to him, begging for any scraps of validation he could get. Shoyo could feel his eyes starting to prick. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry, not now, not in front of Kageyama. “Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered.

Kageyama stared at him for a moment, scanning him up and down. He reached over and Shoyo thought he might start a fight, but Kageyama scooped him up and carried him over the shoulder. 

“What the heck? Bakageyama, let me down!” Shoyo pounded his fists into Kageyama’s back. 

Kageyama ignored his protests and marched into the clubroom, gently setting Shoyo down onto the floor. He pulled out sports tape from his bag and turned to Shoyo. “Pull up your pants.” 

“What’s going on? What are you doing?” Shoyo asked.

Kageyama licked his lips. “You’re not jumping as high as usual. At first I thought you might be tired, but then I noticed a small limp when you run up to spike. I think your right knee might be injured, so you’re putting more weight on the left to compensate, which changes the course of your jump.” 

Shoyo looked at him in shock. “A limp? I didn’t even notice… it doesn’t even hurt.” 

Kageyama bent down and rolled Shoyo’s trackpants up above his right knee. “It might be the adrenaline. Or your skull is too thick to register when your body’s hurt.” 

“Oi.” Shoyo pretended to karate-chop Kageyama’s neck. He watched as Kageyama taped up his knee with expertise, long fingers pressing gently and carefully. Shoyo smiled softly. “Thanks.” 

Kageyama stood up and put a hand on Shoyo’s head. “Take care of yourself. I don’t want to lose you.”

Shoyo looked up to the face of his setter and beamed. “Silly, I’m right here.” 

* * *

Shoyo is in the unlit living room, sprawled on the couch and reading manga under a dim lamp. Tobio is sitting on the other side of the couch, focusing on a volleyball game playing on the TV. Shoyo glances up and spots a familiar tuft of wavy hair and flawless skin on the screen. 

“You watch Oikawa’s games?” Shoyo asks.

“Sometimes.” Tobio responds. “Her technique is good.” 

Shoyo hums in agreement and sits up to watch. CA San Juan is losing, but Shoyo only cares about how Oikawa lands several service aces, how she sets the ball to maximize the strengths of each teammate. It’s fascinating, brilliant, and reminds him of his old high school gym. 

“Did you and Atsumu break up?” Tobio asks suddenly. 

“No! No.” Shoyo frowns. “What makes you think that?” 

“You’ve been home more often.” Tobio says offhandedly, rubbing his nails with the tips of his thumbs. 

“Oh. Yeah.” Shoyo shrugs. “I’ve just been really tired lately.” 

“You can use my blanket. It’s weighted.” Tobio offers. “Only for one night, though, because I need it.” 

“Ah, thanks, but I’m not tired like that.” Shoyo rubs his forehead. “Relationships are hard.” He says, after a while. “There’s so much pressure and expectation, and I feel like I’m just running through the motions without knowing why it has to be this way.” 

“Oh. I understand.” Tobio nods without taking his eyes off the screen. “I don’t get why people don’t mean what they say and don’t say what they mean. I don’t get why one tone means something and another means the opposite even when the words are the same. I try my best to understand people but never know if I’m understanding them correctly or not.”

“Tobio,” Shoyo says gently. “You’ve come a long way since I first met you. If you’re trying your best, then it’s up to the other person to meet you in the middle.”

Tobio flushes and looks down. “Suga-senpai taught me a lot. About all these rules and how to get people to trust you.” He taps his knee in a steady rhythm. “Hinata,” 

Shoyo glances at him. “Yeah?”

“Are you trying your best?”

Shoyo thinks about he and Atsumu. He thinks about how over the past six months, when Atsumu’s upset, Shoyo is upset. Their latest argument was about how they never go to Shoyo’s apartment, only Atsumu’s, and Shoyo told him it’s because his roommate would be uncomfortable. 

“I can’t have sex knowing that Tobio could hear us!” Shoyo explained.

“Can’t he just put on headphones?” Atsumu countered. 

“C’mon, we’re way louder than that, babe.” Shoyo rolled his eyes. 

“So what if he hears somethin'! Ya can’t keep treatin' him like a fuckin’ baby.” Atsumu gritted his teeth. 

At this, Shoyo felt his head expand in rage. “Don’t you fucking say that, Atsumu.” 

“Yer coddlin’ him.” Atsumu snarled.

“And you’re being REALLY insensitive right now—”

“Yer bein’ insensitive to ME—”

“I don’t get why we can’t just go to your apartment like usual—”

“'CAUSE I DON’T GET WHY YA KEEP PUTTIN' HIM BEFORE ME!!” Atsumu shouted, heaving in anger. 

Shoyo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “…He went catatonic, or something, one time. It was really scary. And I never want that to happen to him again.” He said quietly, recalling the memory. He opened his eyes to Atsumu’s stricken expression. 

“Shit, I didn’t know it was that bad, Sho—” Atsumu started. 

“Yeah, it is.” Shoyo interrupted, before leaving. 

So, is he trying his best?

Shoyo thinks about he and Atsumu. He thinks about how over the past six months, when Atsumu’s upset, Shoyo is upset. He thinks about every date, every compliment, every kiss. He thinks about Atsumu’s fond smiles, his pleased blushes, his sweet confessions. He thinks about how over the past six months, when Atsumu’s happy, Shoyo feels like he is suffocating. 

* * *

The first thing Shoyo sees when he steps foot into the gym is Atsumu on his knees, head bowed, raising up a bowl of egg rice. 

“I’m sorry, Sho!” He cries out. “I totally stepped over a boundary without knowing anythin’, like an idiot. Please accept my offerin’!” 

Shoyo takes the bowl of egg rice from his hands and pulls Atsumu up. “Did you cook this?” He asks.

“Yeah! I asked ‘Samu and tried my best, but I know it’s still crappy…” He sounds forlorn. “Oh, and I brought chopsticks.” He says, plucking them out of his jacket pocket. 

“Thank you.” Shoyo bites his lip. “Are you that bothered by me and Tobio?” 

“Argh, ugh.” Atsumu swipes at his face. “Not really. Some jealous part of me thought thatchu and Kageyams were hidin' something, but I know that's not true!” He waves his hands in denial. “And I was hurt at other stuff, and just lumped it all t’gether in the heat of the moment.” 

“Other stuff?” 

“Ack, yeah… I dunno if I should say this or not.” Atsumu says apprehensively. 

Shoyo takes a bite of Atsumu’s peace offering and smiles slightly. “If not now, when?” 

“If ya insist…” Atsumu mumbles. 

“Um,”

Shoyo jumps at the foreign voice.

“Are you guys gonna get changed?” Bokuto asks, walking past them. 

Shoyo facepalms. “On second thought, let’s continue this conversation later.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Atsumu laughs nervously. 

They don’t get to talk until a few days later, when their practice schedule lightens up enough for Shoyo to go over to Atsumu’s apartment. Under the sheets, Shoyo curls against Atsumu’s back, stroking a finger up and down Atsumu’s arm. 

“Do you still wanna talk?” Shoyo murmurs. 

A beat of silence. “I just don’t wanna fuck everythin’ up.” Atsumu admits quietly. 

“If it’s bothering you, just tell me.” Shoyo assures him. 

Atsumu swallows and clears his throat. “I jus’ feel like… yer so close but sometimes yer so far away.” 

Shoyo stills his hand. “What do you mean?” 

“Times like these, I feel so connected to ya. Like I can conquer the world ‘cause I know yer right by my side.” Atsumu smiles and turns onto his back. “And then suddenly, ya vanish for a while and I have an empty hole in my heart.” His smile becomes pinched. “And then ya come back again, as if nothin’s changed. But the emptiness never really goes away.” He puts a hand over his eyes. “How do ya do that, Sho? How do ya let go so easily?” 

Shoyo doesn’t know what to say. So much for not swinging between extremes. So much for being ‘normal'. “Tsumu,” He starts. “I’m sorry for making you feel this way.” He reaches out to touch Atsumu’s hair, but pulls his hand back. “I… don’t know what to do in a relationship.” He confesses.

Atsumu looks at him through a crack between his fingers. “I jus’ wantcha to be _you_. I don’t wantcha to feel like yer bein’ forced to do somethin’ ya don’t wanna do.” 

Shoyo swallows, and thinks about how if he did just that, Atsumu would be left empty, over and over again. “I…” 

“I know. It sucks ‘cause yer right _there_ , and I love ya so much, but ya don’t love me back.” Atsumu smiles, eyes filled with unshed tears. 

“Tsumu, I do love you.” Shoyo says sadly. 

Atsumu just shakes his head slowly. “No ya don’t, and I know yer trying yer best, but I think I’m just… unlovable.” His voice cracks and he closes his eyes.

So this is what he's been masking, forcing down every time they fuck, Atsumu opening him up gently, cherishingly, belying none of the bitterness and resentment underneath. Atsumu always called Shoyo his sunshine, and of course Shoyo burned him alive. He feels like a fucking idiot for thinking their charade could ever work out.

“Listen to me, Tsumu.” Shoyo reaches out and Atsumu flinches. He lets his hands fall to his side. “I really do love you, it’s just…”

“…Not in the way that I love you.” Atsumu finishes the sentence for him. He sounds defeated; the usual fire in his eyes extinguished, only leaving traces of muted, dull indifference. Shoyo never wants to see him like this, but he never had that right to begin with. He leans forward in trepidation, inch by inch, reaching his palm out, and Atsumu crumbles into his chest, shaking. Shoyo slowly cards his hand through Atsumu’s hair with featherlight touches, memorizing how the coarse texture feels between his fingers.

“You _are_ lovable.” He murmurs. “You’re passionate, head-strong, and a crazy hard worker. I don’t think you’ve ever backed down from challenging yourself and pushing yourself to your limits. You’re observant and intuitive, but instead of using it to be thoughtful, you use it to push people’s buttons. Asshole.” He chuckles softly. “You’re… beautiful and awe-inspiring and courageous and honest to a fault. You’re the best boyfriend, and I never should have dragged you along. You’re precious, okay? Don’t ever think that you can’t be loved.” He mumbles lowly and evenly as Atsumu continues to breathe shakily, silent tears flowing one by one, slowly, steadily, incessantly. 

“That what makes it hurt so much, Sho.” Atsumu finally croaks out. ( _“Yer what makes me hurt so much, Sho.”_ Shoyo hears.) “It’s so close to what I want, but that tiny gap is killin' me more than not bein' with you at all.”

“I’m sorry, Tsumu.”

“Don’t be, it’s not yer fault. It’s mine for knowin' what would happen but lettin' myself fall anyways.” Atsumu whispers, and Shoyo lets himself drown in the silence.

Isn’t it funny how the most affection he's ever given Atsumu is when he has an emotional breakdown?

* * *

Shoyo trudges through their apartment door, haphazardly kicking his shoes off at the genkan. He checks Tobio’s closed door. The arrow is pointing to “not busy, please knock”, so he knocks on the door three times. Tobio pokes his head out of his bedroom and greets him, the scent of nail polish wafting through the air.

“I’m sad.” Shoyo grumbles, and Tobio nods. 

“I made tonkatsu. I’ll heat some up if you’d like.” Tobio asks, walking towards the fridge.

“Yes please.” Shoyo grunts, prodding behind him into the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment. “Tobio.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your body for a bit?”

Tobio smiles and turns to face Shoyo, waving him over. Shoyo mashes his face into Tobio’s hoodie. Tobio grunts and has to take a step back to stabilize himself from being headbutted in the torso by the full bodyweight of a professional athlete. 

“Ughhhhh.” Shoyo lets out a groan of a thousand lifetimes. “Why’s this harder than training for the Olympics?”

Tobio snorts and pats Shoyo’s head twice. “Is it really, though?” He says, pulling Shoyo’s head away to scoop his katsu out of the pan. He heads to their couch with the bowl and a glass of water, Shoyo shuffling behind him with a hand holding the back of his hoodie. Tobio points at the couch and then the food. “Sit. Eat.”

Shoyo complies easily, wolfing down the tonkatsu as Tobio sits beside him, patting his head. “You’re bein’ awfully nice today.” Shoyo remarks through mouthfuls of rice.

“I saw you and I felt bad vibes.” Tobio says nonchalantly. And for some reason, it’s _that_ phrase, with _that_ tone and _that_ face, that makes Shoyo double over in hysterics. He starts crying in laughter, or sadness, or both, a nonsensical mess. He repeats _“I broke his heart, I broke his fucking heart”_ like a mantra, wishing to reverse time and undo his ugly mistakes. He feels all the frustration and exhaustion from the past six months spill out through his eyes, and feels waves of loneliness coursing through his body. He doesn’t know how long he spends heaving and shaking, but when he looks up, he sees Tobio’s face glistening with tears. Tobio looks away and wipes his cheeks with his hoodie. “Your food is getting soggy. And salty. And cold.”

Shoyo coughs into his elbow and grabs a handful of tissues to wipe his face. “Hey Tobio,” He starts soberly.

“Mm?”

“What if I don’t have the capacity to love?” He grins sardonically. If Shoyo is the sun, he is a hopelessly oppressive one, sucking the lifeforce out of people who think that his warmth is a gift, much less a fair trade.

Tobio scrunches his face in thought, tapping on his chin. “Nah, bullshit.” Shoyo opens his mouth to protest, but Tobio puts a hand up to stop him. “If you don’t have the ability to love, what do the rest of us plebs have?”

“First 'bad vibes', and now ‘plebs'? You’ve been talking with Yama-yama too much.” Shoyo cracks a smile.

Tobio scowls. “You call Yamaguchi ‘Yama’; he calls me ‘Yama’... this is too confusing.”

“No, it’s not. Yama-yama is Yama-yama. You are Tobio. My Tobio with the brain of a flying fish.” Shoyo rambles, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes. 

“Pssh.” Tobio snorts in offense. 

He almost drifts off to sleep when he hears Tobio stand up and walk to the kitchen, washing the bowl and chopsticks. He hears the clinking of ceramic, and then Tobio’s footsteps getting closer.

“Hinata.”

“Yeah?” He raises his head and blinks sleepily.

Tobio puts a hand on Shoyo's shoulder, thumb drifting back and forth slowly. “I don’t know much about love, but isn’t it just caring about someone? You care about the team and your friends and family. You compliment them and cheer them on. And, well… you’ve stuck with me for so long. You listen to me even when words are hard. That’s love, right?”

Shoyo inwardly laughs, because did Tobio just say that he loves him? “Thanks, Tobio.” He smiles bittersweetly. “That’s not the kind of love Atsumu is looking for, though.”

“Then Atsumu has to figure that out. If the kind of love you have makes you happy, shouldn’t it be enough?” 

Shoyo feels his discomfort and anxieties slowly sink below the horizon line, plunging into a dark, cool ocean, dissipating into white foam. He basks in the stillness of the night, focusing on the faint sounds of traffic, the whirring of the fan, and Tobio’s steady breathing. 

“Yeah, it’s enough.” He smiles.

Tobio nods. “Hinata.” He watches Shoyo carefully. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Shoyo tilts his head.

Tobio smiles fondly and his eyes glitter like moonlight reflecting off the surface of the ocean. “All this time… thanks for being my best friend.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Some extra tidbits:
> 
> – Atsumu continues to fall for emotionally unavailable men but i promise he finds true love with Aran after the Olympics!  
> – Kageyama has a collection of clear nail polish from different brands. He can talk in detail about how the different polishes vary in texture, viscosity, and value.  
> – Kunimi is enby and uses they/them pronouns; Oikawa is bigender and uses both she/her and he/him (might write a separate story about them!)
> 
> Everyone's experience with asexuality, aromanticism, and autism differ. In this piece, Kageyama is portrayed as sex-aversive but that doesn't mean all aces are sex-averse! etc. etc. 
> 
> Thanks for reading the self-indulgent thinkpiece that consumed my brain for a week. Hit me up on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/kz_jell/status/1297001636846604398)


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